lead us through the night
by swirling-summernotes
Summary: take courage again. /Lily-centric


**author's note**: leave a review if you wish, please don't favourite without reviewing.

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let love lead us through the night

-:-

Lily hated messy countertops.

As a child, her mother and father would leave countless letters strewn across the kitchen counters. Bills and "important paperwork." Quills and ink, and Al's old sweaters. A fruit bowl had stood in the middle of the island, and the occasional fruit fly would buzz about the week old bananas.

Tonight, she was sitting in her dirty flat with grimy fingernails, clutching a worn, thin blanket around her. A sliver of moon was shining through her dark common room. Her hair was stringy and needed a wash. She gently played with the ends of her dark red locks and listlessly stared at her messy countertops.

Maybe, she thought, maybe she was here because Thomas Creevey offered her Firewhiskey back in third year. Maybe it was Thomas Creevey's fault.

All Thomas Creevey's fault.

Lily blinked.

-:-

Her fault.

All her fault.

-:-

She shifted her gaze to the empty bottle beside her and contemplated getting another. For the first time in a long time, she decided that moving from the old couch with the hard springs was not worth her getting another drink.

-:-

Messy. Too messy.

-:-

She contemplated calling a boy. There had been plenty of boys over the years. There had been Teddy, with his slow kisses and peppermint taste, and Lorcan, with his strong jaw and fierce eyes. And there had been Lysander, with his rough kiss and floppy hair, and Max, and Dylan, and too many, too many. She didn't have enough fingers for all the boys.

Too messy for love.

-:-

She called a boy.

-:-

Hugo approached slowly from the fireplace, and she looked up even slower_. Shame, lots_ _of shame_, she thought, _I can't think through the shame. _Hugo took a seat next to her. She studied his profile, the side of his long nose, the gentle upward curve of his lashes. His lips, the small scar on his chin from the time when they were six and fell into a rosebush. She studied him for a long time. He looked clean.

He turned toward her, and she held his blue gaze until they made her eyes burn. _Shh Lily, don't cry._

-:-

A tear fell onto her lap. It made a dark stain in her jeans. _Shh, Lily, don't cry._

-:-

An arm embraced her around the shoulders. She resisted. The arm pulled her closer. She relented. Her head lay on his chest. His chin rested atop of her head. She felt his heartbeat, _boom boom boom_. She heard his steady breathing. Thank You, God, for Hugo.

Thank you.

-:-

"You're not too far gone, Lily," he whispered gently in her hair. "You're not. You're not."

"I'm too messy," she replied.

-:-

It was her fault she drank alcohol like water.

-:-

"Come home," he breathed.

"I am home," she replied.

"Come home to us."

-:-

She rubbed a flannel-covered sleeve across her cheek.

-:-

Hugo hugged her tighter. "Please, Lily."

"Don't let go."

-:-

"I'm like the countertops," she breathed, so soft that her hair did not even flutter, "like countertops."

Hugo bended his head to hear her better.

"Like countertops," she said louder.

-:-

Hugo didn't say anything for two minutes and fifty three seconds.

"You're not too messy."

Lily nodded.

"No. You're not."

-:-

"Love is messy," Hugo said softly. "Love is tangled."

She touched a finger to her cheek. Black smears were on her already grimy fingernail.

-:-

"Okay," she said.

-:-

Hugo stood. He clasped her hand in his.

-:-

They arrived at her parents house. Her brothers were there, sitting at the table in the kitchen. Rose and Albus were whispering secrets. James was drumming on the tabletop. Her parents were sitting on the couch.

_In a minute_, she thought, _I will go see my parents._

She made her way to table. Hugo followed. She sat down on Rose's lap. Wordlessly, her cousin's arms wrapped around her waist. She clasped their hands together, and Rose leaned her head against Lily's back.

James stared at her from across the table. I love you, he mouthed, I love you.

Albus reached out and grasped her forearm.

Love.

-:-

Hugo took a seat at the table. Lily met his eyes.

He smiled. I love you.

-:-

She never went back to the apartment with messy countertops.

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author's note: got tired of alcohol being romanticized. i've been working on this for some time, and your feedback would be great. please do not favourite without reviewing. and if you get the chance, never pass up the opportunity to sit on someone's lap. keep spreading the love, people.


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